Reviews, Desperate Romantics and the big city

Was very happy to have received this five-star review of The Bones of Summer from Rosy on Goodreads:

“This was a great read. Told from the viewpoint of a new character - Craig Robertson - it also features Paul Maloney, the lead character in a previous book by Anne called Maloney's Law. It is definitely not necessary to have read Maloney's Law to enjoy this story though, (this stands up completely on its own as an independent tale) but I'm glad that I did. Mainly because Paul felt like an old friend to me from the beginning, I felt like I knew him, in a way that Craig obviously couldn't as he'd only just met him. Also whenever Paul talked of his past, his 'friend' or his 'ex', I knew who, and what, he was referring to. I knew what had brought Paul to this point in his life. Although, as I've said, it's not necessary to do so, as this story rips along at its own fast pace! (I actually did imagine sometimes when I was reading that it would be equally nice to learn about Paul at the same time as Craig does ... so it's good either way!). Craig was a very endearing character and I loved his Gay Rules. This is a good mystery AND a good love story. I'm just glad these two men found each other ... I enjoyed this book very much.”

Thanks, Rosy – I’m hugely grateful for that!

Oh, and I must say I actually really enjoyed Desperate Romantics on TV last night – it’s surprisingly charming and witty. Totally unrealistic of course, but that doesn’t matter. Heck, it’s fiction. Lord H and I particularly enjoyed the ripple of shock that went through the supposedly avant-garde group when they found out that one of them had actually had sex. All wonderfully Victorian, and very funny. I also hugely sympathised with (a) their desperate struggle for recognition; (b) the shock when someone said something nice about their art; (c) the blaming something – anything! - else (ie the model) when a painting didn’t work; (d) the terror of networking; and (e) the relief and pure gratitude when someone else came along and networked on their behalf – very successfully (oh lordy, how I wish I had someone like that on a full-time basis, believe me!). I also liked the fact that they had to lie, cheat and deceive in order to get noticed at all. I’ll definitely be watching again.

Meanwhile, at work, I’m struggling away on my second set of minutes – I managed to get the first set out for checking yesterday, hurrah. I’m hoping I might get a first draft of these ones done today too, but we’ll see. Mind you, the Mentoring team came back with homemade cake from one of their meetings, so that went down well, mmmm … One thing about our new office in Senate House is that there’s a heck of a lot more cake being offered around the place, which can only be a good thing, hurrah.

Anyway, it was nice to get out of the office at lunchtime and take a stroll round campus. Although half of it seemed to be blocked off as they do improvements over the summer so I had to take a strange route. And you know how much I hate a change in my routine. Still, I did finally find a bench I knew so sat on it and gazed at the lake for a while. I’ve even remembered to bring my ereader with me so I’m reading the rest of the stories in the upcoming Disasters and Miracles anthology. There’s some very good stuff in there, I must say, and I’m very pleased to be included in it.

Tonight I’m up in London to see Jane W (hello, Jane!) – so I’m looking forward to that. I can feel a curry coming on, as it were. Maybe. Again, we’ll see. And my ereader is perfect for train travel too.

Oh and one of the sets of poetry submissions I resent out yesterday has once again already come back as a rejection. Honestly, some people have absolutely no sense at all. Idiots! I obviously need to try a publisher with more intelligence and taste then, ho ho. And deep sighing. However, to balance the poetic universe, I’ve written a poem about toes. As you do. That’ll show ’em, eh …

Today’s nice things:

1. The five-star review for Bones
2. TV
3. Cake
4. Lunchtime walks
5. The Bible stories anthology
6. Seeing Jane in London
7. Poetry.

Anne Brooke - desperately seeking a poetry publisher ...

Rejections, writers and a bestseller status

Here’s today’s meditation. Joshua isn’t quite in the Promised Land yet, but he’s thinking about it. Sort of.

Meditation 178

So it begins,
that final part

of your journey:
and at the moment

of greatest trepidation
a glimmer of light:

generous words; the hope
of a future, love.

At work, I’m attempting to get the minutes from yesterday’s two meetings written, though I have to admit my enthusiasm quotas are low. Heck, aren’t they always? It would be nice to get one of them out of the way, but I’m not holding my breath. It’s a bit of a tricky morning though, as I’ve had not one, but two, rejections of poetry submissions in the email. Groan. What was even more humiliating was that one of them I’d only sent out late last night so they must have really really hated them. The other was worse though – as it told me I was a near miss with what I’d sent them. Deep sigh. I do wish publishers wouldn’t say that – it’s so patronising and doesn’t help anyone at all (after the first near miss rejection, which is I admit nice-ish, the experience quickly loses its charm, believe me). A simple “no” is the easiest way. Why on earth don’t they stick to it?

Anyway, at lunch, I took the last writers’ group meeting of the academic year. Today’s game was to make something of words and phrases I’d cut out of our selection of magazines on Sunday night – I think they enjoyed it. I know I did – I’ve started a comic piece set in the Garden of Eden with a rather irritated Gabriel. As you do. So I’ll have to see how that goes.

After work, I popped in to Tesco to get a few essentials, though I must admit Lord H was a hero yesterday and did a barrel-load of shopping even though it wasn’t his week for it. Talking of heroes, our work list for this week is James Anderson (something to do with cricket, I think, but I can’t rightly remember), the campus Transport Team (for doing a brilliant job with the current roadworks on site so we get through them relatively painlessly), Ruth’s dentist (for doing an equally brilliant job in his profession) and … um … me (for getting the boss a cheaper deal on his airport car parking that he hadn’t realised he could get, hurrah!).

And tonight it’s the new series of arty lurve, pain and angst – Desperate Romantics. I’m in two minds about it, I must be honest, but I’ll give it a chance and watch the first episode. I’m just not sure about these programmes that stuff as many famous, stressed-out young men in them and then expect that to be a plot. We’ll see.

Ooh, and The Bones of Summer is a Silver Star Bestseller at All Romance Ebooks. Well gosh indeed, and thank you!

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Writers’ group
3. New short story ideas
4. Heroes – including me!
5. TV – possibly
6. The Bones of Summer bestseller status.

Anne Brooke - a poetry reject but an eBook bestseller

Feet, books and paper

Here’s today’s meditation. We’re at the start of the Book of Joshua now, so it’s all change:

Meditation 177

After the death,
a list of actions

to take: welcome
distraction.

But, most of all,
a sense

of unfulfilment,
regret,

the need to write
something

across the emptiness
for the man

you’ve lost,
for the man

you must become.


My UK Amazon copies of The Bones of Summer have finally turned up so I’ve given one to Ruth at work and one to Steph in the Health Centre. I hope they enjoy the read. Steph tells me she now has her mother reading my books (thanks, Steph!) so I am slowly widening my reader base. As they say.

At work, I was straight in at the deep end with three hours (three hours - nightmare!!) of back-to-back meetings from 9.30am. Really, it’s not the best way to start a Monday. First off we had the rescheduled Steering Group, which is usually done over lunch so that was confusing enough in itself. After that, we had a new group which is looking at joining up all the campaigns we have so we all know what’s going on at any one time. Which makes sense. But I am now surrounded by paper and have to make something logical out of it all before my brain implodes. That could be soon …

Still, I managed to have a wonderful reflexology session over the lunch hour so I now feel more centred, hurrah. Or at least my feet do. Tonight, I’m at the University book group discussing Rose Tremain’s The Road Home. A book I enjoyed so it should be a good session.

And, back home, I discover that the birthday card I posted to a friend last week has been delivered to me as the Post Office have franked it on the wrong side and seem to have assumed that the address on the back of the envelope (ie my address) is the one they actually need. Eh?!? The address on the front is perfectly clear - why on earth couldn't they use it?... Still, I will attempt to put it in the post again tomorrow, and see what happens, deep deep sigh. Good job I posted it early then.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Delivering copies of The Bones of Summer
3. Reflexology
4. Book group.

Anne Brooke - bamboozled by post

Skeleton woods and a plethora of artists

So, I've come to the end of Deuteronomy in my morning meditations and here's my poem about that:

Meditation 176: The Death of Moses

All those years
of travel,

grief and hope
end like this:

a long, slow view
of the land

you’ve waited for,
tasting cool mountain air

on your tongue,
the whispers of God

at your ear
and the darkness to come.


Poor Moses - forty years of travel and doing his best, and he never quite manages to set foot in the Promised Land. It always gets me, that does. As you can probably see. Anyway, onto the Book of Joshua tomorrow, and all his terrors about being the Number Two forced into becoming the actual Leader. When he evidently wasn't really sure he wanted to, poor man. Ah well.

Literary news for today is that my flash fiction piece, The Skeleton Wood, is now up at the Every Day Fiction website and getting rather mixed reactions. Which I imagine must prove I'm doing something right, ho ho. One or two readers seem to be enjoying it anyway, which is also nice.

Anyway, we've graced the doors of the church this morning - some marvellous hymn choices and I do always enjoy the monthly 1662 service - it's like an ocean washing over you and there's no need to think. Bliss. We decided to go to Petworth House for lunch and a wander round. Actually lunch wasn't that great really, but that was probably a good thing - to be honest, my stomach still isn't brilliant and I'm only okay when I don't eat, sigh ... Good for the diet, maybe, but bad as a life plan. I'm hoping it sorts itself out soon. Mind you, it was lovely to go round the actual house - I forget how much bloody good art it has. Everywhere you look there's a Turner, or a Van Dyck or a Bosch - so much so that it's almost embarrassing. The sculptures are great as well, but I have to admit that on the whole I prefer paint.

This afternoon, I have cleared out Rupert in preparation for the arrival of Miranda on Thursday. I actually think the new car might be Miranda Louise - and interestingly will be my first ever female car and my first car with more than one name. All the others I've had have been male with one name only. As it were. I don't know how I know she's a gal, but she most definitely is. Maybe she'll improve my image? You never know. And I've done another couple of chapter edits of Hallsfoot's Battle and am now just over halfway through Edit One. Ah, there'll be an Edit Two and an Edit Three as well before I even think about submitting it anywhere, so it's still all to play for.

This week's haiku is:

Rain freshens the air,
washes the present away.
History lives again.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. The flash fiction publication
3. Church
4. Art at Petworth House
5. Car preparation
6. Editing
7. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - enjoying a typical Sunday of skeletons and art ...

Review city and arty teas

First, on this rather exciting day, the morning meditation:

Meditation 175

There’s a message
for each of us:

words for courage,
unity, faith, protection,

strength, journeyings,
hospitality, war,

youth, expansion, security.
What matters

is when we hear it
and how we hold it.

After that, the day has turned into a veritable plethora of good news and reviews. First out of the stalls is this review of Maloney's Law from the lovely Jason:

“One such book that I did read whilst on the balcony in the high 90s was Anne Brooke's Maloney's Law, available from Amazon. Now at first I wasn't too sure about it, I'm not a private dick kinda guy, so I'm not one for purchasing and reading detective stories, but hey, I saw this in America, knew that Anne although she may be an Essex girl lives close to my Surrey roots, so thought what the heck. Now that I've finished, I'm so bloody glad I did, it's an astonishingly good read; once I got in to it I was gripped and wanted, no, needed to know what lay ahead, how the future was mapped out for our hero, Paul Maloney. Small town private detective earns a crust for little insurance fiddle cases, it pays the rent but only just, that is until he takes on a case that will change his life. I'm not sure if he takes on the case or the case takes him on but, after that, life cannot be the same again for this London lad. It's not long before he's jetting off and entering a world of high-class crime, big business and seat of your pants danger. Oh yeah, and I forgot to say, this new and exciting case he's working on just happens to be from his ex lover, called Dominic! The book is fun, interesting and exciting, there are some real high and some very low points in the story that had me smiling and also my eyes moist with sadness. I won’t go on and spoil it for you and tell you the plot and the ending except to say … yep there is death in that story, but where, when and how, you'll have to read to find out, which if you ask me, you blooming well should do. It's a great read!”

Thanks so much, Jason - that really put a smile on my face, I can tell you!

I thought it couldn't get any better after that, but then the equally lovely Nancy on Goodreads sent me an email to say how much she'd enjoyed Painting from Life and gave me this review:

“Painting From Life is not a love story in the traditional sense. It is the story of an artist in a suffocating marriage struggling to achieve perfection in his work. While strolling on the beach with his wife, he meets an old man he’d like to paint. After a brief conversation, the old man agrees to sit for a portrait. The more time they spend together, the more his model, Peter, inspires creativity and instills passion in his art. The gorgeous and vivid prose captures the essence of the sea, the beauty, frailty and loneliness of old age, and the deep, spiritual love between the artist, his model, and his work. Very highly recommended.”

Well, gosh! Thanks so much, Nancy. I thought surely that must be it, but then, to my amazement, I saw that the Literary Nymphs review site had given a "5 Nymph" review to The Bones of Summer and had said the following about it:

“Growing up with a religious zealot for a father wasn’t easy, which explained why Craig Robertson left home after the discovery of his underage gay affair. He moved to London, changed his name and got on with his life, becoming a small-time actor and model. His life changes for the second time, when an old neighbor notifies him that his estranged father has disappeared. Lucky for Craig, his new lover, Paul Maloney, is a private detective and he agrees to accompany him to his hometown to help in the search. Going home is difficult, dredging up painful memories of an abusive childhood after the sudden disappearance of his mother when he was six. As the search progresses, they learn that his long-ago lover, Michael, has been missing since the day they were discovered. It’s clear there are gaps in Craig’s memory, leading him to suspect that there’s something in his past he doesn’t want to remember. When Craig confesses to Paul his fear that Michael is dead and that he’s responsible, Paul refuses to believe his lover is a murderer. As Craig’s hunt for the truth turns to obsession, the lovers’ new and fragile relationship begins to fall apart, leaving him to search on his own. Alone and being stalked, Craig must face the terrors of his past, and hope he can survive to have a future. The Bones of Summer by Anne Brooke is a complicated and intriguing tale of a man struggling to cope with his life in the aftermath of a painful and difficult childhood, lived with a cold, hard and uncaring religiously fanatical father. On first impression, this complex story might appear to be overwhelmed with fear, pain and angst and while that’s partly true, it’s not the whole truth. It’s also the story of Craig and Paul, finding each other, and the passion, love, desire and friendship that builds between them, despite their individual painful pasts, hidden secrets and lies. Emotions run high throughout the story and both men break down in tears on more than one occasion or verbally clash, saying hateful, vicious things to each other. Other times the sex is hot and passionate. In truth, they are often at odds, despite how they feel for one another and the search for Craig’s father and his fear of what might have happened only strain an already fragile relationship. So, while at heart The Bones of Summer is a story of Craig and Paul, the fuel that propels the story forward, and causes most of their problems, is Craig’s father, his missing ex-lover and his fear of what he might have done that summer, seven years ago. The father in this tale is a true ‘bay guy’. A fanatic so certain that what he thinks justifies his actions. I have to admit that Ms. Brooke caught me off guard when his disappearance turned into a stalking of his estranged son. Take it from me. This man is crazy, but makes a great villain, perfect for hating. It’s not all doom and gloom though. Craig has periods where a wicked sense of humor pokes through, and he says something that makes me chuckle. This is particularly true when he spouts his self-created Gay Rules. He’s also, deep down, an optimistic man who hopes for a happy and successful future.”

Gosh, thank you so much, Mystical Nymph (great name, btw!) - I'm so very glad you enjoyed it. Heartfelt thanks indeed to all three of you who've taken the time to read my books and have really made my day, big-time - it's very much appreciated.

Anyway, buoyed up almost beyond belief by all that, I have written my review of Makine's Human Love for Vulpes Libris, so am hoping for an upcoming slot for that at some point.

This afternoon's been fun too - Lord H and I have spent several hours with Robin & Gavin at the Watts' Gallery Victorian Tea Party, with no less a Guest of Honour than Penelope Keith. I hope the theme of the party wasn't saying anything particular about the wonderful Ms Keith however - she was great and looked amazing. Nothing Victorian about her! We all had tea in the marquee, signed a roof tile for the restored building and had a very interesting tour around Watts' Great Studio (which isn't usually open). My, what circles we Surrey-ites move in indeed ...

On the way home we popped into Waitrose to get a Chinese takeaway for tonight - and I think it was fairly typical of the Godalming crowd that nobody paid us any attention at all, even though we swept in wearing a posh frock, glittery shoes and a pashmina (me), and a blazer, light summer trousers and a cravat (Lord H - he'd left the boater in the car ...). Naturally though, dahhlings, here in the shires, we always dress up to visit Waitrose. Doesn't everyone?

Tonight, I'm looking forward to the programme about Versailles on TV - yet another place I really must get to some day. Perhaps we should change into our evening wear in order to watch it? Noblesse oblige, don't you know ...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Not one, not two, but three good reviews of different books!
3. Tea with Penelope
4. Gallery tours
5. TV.

Anne Brooke - thinking the day can't possibly get any better!

Golf, Gathandria and gadgets

Feeling more normal today (well as normal as I ever get), hurrah. Here's this morning's meditation:

Meditation 174

When
you have played

your last shot,
given it

everything,
let loose

the golden words
that fill you

and watched them
disappear,

then
the only thing

to do
is hide

and wait
for the end to come.


Hmm, yes well, you'll be glad to hear I'm feeling rather jollier than that, but it's what came out so I'll keep it. As it were. I've been continuing the Hallsfoot's Battle edit and am now on the 4th Lammas section, so that's good. I've enjoyed it too. Marian and I have also managed to fit a game of golf in between the showers - we both did rather better than normal and got exactly the same score, so that was fun. I even managed a par on the first hole, but then totally messed up my tee shot on the 6th when the Pro was watching me - the ball missed the club head entirely and dribbled about 4 foot off the tee, oh the shame and oh how Marian laughed ... Ah well, I suspect the Ladies' Open will not be beckoning this year, Carruthers. Again.

Whizzed round Godalming and restocked on the essential supply of oils and happy pills so I should be okay for a few weeks at least. And hey I've even managed to eat lunch today, which is progress indeed. I've also finished my first book on the CoolReader, and have on the whole enjoyed the experience. I think I've bonded with the machine now. The only slight problems I had with it were that (a) it takes a while to power up, though on the other hand it's very easy to shut off; (b) some of the screen pages only had a few words on them so you had to press Next Page very quickly indeed; (c) plugging it into the Mac is fine but it fails to understand the Eject Button so it always objects when I take it out, though apparently with no harmful effects. On the plus side it's wonderful to be able to take something wherever I want and be able to read whenever I like, book-marking is easy and it comes back to the page you left it, and I can also store my novels and published short stories on it in PDF versions so another saving method, by George. Just what the keen reader and writer requires.

And my first portable eBook has been the very wonderful James Robertson's Close And Other Stories. To be honest I only bought it as I wanted to see if the machine worked - I'd never heard of the chappie. But I have to say they're bloody excellent stories. Like a cross between Tania Hershman and Elizabeth Baines, but a bloke. His main themes are the small human changes in a life or in a relationship and how they affect what happens next. He ranges from the dark to the quirky and round the houses to the funny again. I loved them. I have no idea if he's done anything else, and I'm not even sure if this collection is available in a paper version, but I can thoroughly recommend the experience. Sharp and wise. Just how I like my fiction.

Which is more than can be said for the book I've just finished for an upcoming Vulpes Libris review. I think I've been bludgeoned to near-death by the amount of politics in Andrei Makine's Human Love, and I never did discover the story. Or the characters. Deep deep sigh. I shall say no more until the review goes up, but trust me - it won't be pleasant. What on earth are Sceptre up to nowadays?? I wonder if they have any readable books at all, my dears ...

So, a much-needed Alexander Technique lesson this afternoon, and then a quick cup of tea and chat - plus a restocking of some of my Nutrimetics products - at Jane H's (hello, Jane & co!), and then I'm planning a relatively quiet evening tonight. Ye gods, what a good day it's been really. After this week, that's certainly come as a surprise.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Editing
3. Golf
4. The CoolReader
5. Books - well, some of them ...
6. Alexander Technique
7. Tea & chat with Jane.

Anne Brooke - chugging along in the rain

The serial napper and the speed-dial doctor

Goodness me but I am the Queen of the Naps today. And yesterday even - the moment I got in from work, I fell asleep, then this morning I was asleep until Lord H left for work, and this lunchtime I've had to have another hour's nap just in order to feel capable of facing the day. Obviously I need it then! I'm not eating very much either and don't feel at all hungry, though I'm drinking lots. But apart from that and a slight achiness and stomach trouble, everything's fine. Ho ho. Actually I think it's payback time from the stresses and strains of this week and last. When oh when will I learn not to panic and to try to chill out more?? Hmm, don't wait up is my advice ...

Anyway, here's this morning's meditation:

Meditation 173

What it all
comes down to

is this:
one slight

terrified man
facing agonising

death
for the sake

of a truth
he thinks

worth dying for.


I've been working away on the Hallsfoot's Battle edits today and actually quite enjoying the leisurely manner in which I'm doing it. I'm adding in a few pointers towards the things I made up later in the book and discovering other facts I'd entirely forgotten about, so that's good news. In many ways, I find the editing stage the most enjoyable - actually creating the pesky story can be like tearing the skin off a cat without the aid of anaesthetic (not that I've ever done that, I hasten to add, but the image seems right), whereas editing is more like smoothing it back on again. I think I'm at my calmest at this stage too. Good news for Lord H then!

Other good news is that our holiday to Italy has been confirmed, hurrah. Sadly, it's not Pompeii (though I'm making plans to go in the spring instead - watch this space ...), but a trip to Umbria, north of Rome. Bliss, I can't wait.

Later this afternoon, if I feel up to it, I'm hoping to go on a car hunt at the local showrooms. My aim: a new second-hand Ford Fiesta that isn't black (well, Rupert's black and I fancy a change - but, for goodness sake, don't tell him that!), has five doors, petrol, a manual gearbox and aircon. Surely that can't be too hard? Well, we'll see ...

After that, I'm supposed to be meeting up with work friends for a quick drink and some supper, but I'm going to see how I am before I get there. I don't think I'll be infecting them with anything if I do turn up (whatever I've got is just me, I feel), and in any case it's certainly not swine flu - I've checked the symptoms online and it's a definite "no, go away, and stop bothering us". But, again, we'll see - I may make a miraculous recovery if I see a car I like and then the entire thing will have been only in my head after all. As ever, eh. Do you think I might be a hypochondriac? Surely not. Doesn't everyone have their GP's number on speed-dial?...

Today's nice things:

1. Napping, a lot
2. Poetry
3. Editing
4. Holidays
5. Car-hunting
6. Drinks & supper with friends.

Anne Brooke - napping for Britain, again

Muddling through, again …

Couldn’t get really excited about this morning’s meditation but here it is anyway. It’s much like it is really:

Meditation 172

There’s nothing
in the store today –
all the words are blank.

Somewhere far away,
great men
and great deeds

go about their business,
but here, where I am,
it’s empty and dark

and astonishingly quiet.


Still feeling very low this week, as you can probably tell. This is something of a surprise as it’s not the right time of the month for this kind of thing, but there it is. Everything seems very slow – it’s like walking around whilst carrying a huge and very heavy cloak over my shoulders. Very strange. Still taking the happy pills though and hoping for the best. This morning I was sorting lunch out in the kitchen whilst groaning so Lord H brought me the toy puffin so I could cuddle it, sets its cry off (puffins sound like cows in labour having a very bad time) and groan in unison – so at least I didn’t feel too alone. What a hero.

Talking of heroes, this week’s are Carol for being lovely and wanting to help people (at the moment, I simply want to avoid them so I am more than impressed by this), Chaplaincy Ruth’s son’s teacher, and the lass from Marketing who’s been landed in the deep end and is doing an amazing job in very tricky circumstances.

At lunchtime I walked into town to pay in a cheque and post off the copy of Maloney’s Law to the charity bid winner. Actually I was late back as I didn’t feel at all well, to be honest. Groan. So this afternoon, I’m trying to take it easy but I’m still struggling with making sense of yesterday’s Forum minutes. My interest levels are at an all-time low which isn’t making it any simpler, I must say. It took a Starbucks decaff cappuccino to revive me – even a little.

Tonight, I’ll do a bit more to the Hallsfoot’s Battle edit, if possible. Ooh and I also signed off the final PDF for my story in the upcoming Disasters and Miracles anthology yesterday, so it looks like things are moving there. And I’m looking forward to Who Do You Think You Are? and Ugly Betty on tonight – ideal chilling out/interest material.

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Paying a cheque in
3. Posting Maloney
4. Starbucks
5. Editing
6. Preparation for Disasters and Miracles
7. TV.

Anne Brooke - in the spaced-out zone, as ever ...

Rupert’s return and the happy pills

Up early today as Rupert (the car) is at last ready to be collected, hurrah! It’s so nice to have him back, I must say – and the aircon hasn’t been this good for a long long time. Almost tempting not to look for a new car now, but I’m still keen, I must admit. I suspect there might be a bit of a car hunt this weekend. We’ll see how I’m feeling. We’re also attempting to book our September holiday in and around Pompeii, so here’s hoping there’s some good news on that one tonight.

In the meantime, I’m still feeling raw and more than a little overwhelmed from yesterday’s horrendous day – so have taken my supply of happy pills this morning and am hoping from the best … I think I’m having People Overload at the moment. Way too many demands coming from way too many quarters. Oh to be a hermit, eh. There’s a lot to be said for the solitary life – as long as Lord H is in it too.

At work, I’m struggling away with my meetings I’ve arranged for the upcoming year, which appear to have been lost so I suspect I may have to start from scratch. Not much joy there then. Plus I’m trying to avoid getting too stressed out by the traumas of Freshers’ Week planning. I do wish people wouldn’t assume I need a new challenge and the chance to do something different. Actually I don’t. I get plenty of challenges galore in my writing life – I really don’t need them elsewhere. I’d be far happier just doing the old familiar stuff I know and might not get too stressed out by – but that concept appears to be off the menu, alas. UPDATE: Having done something about it myself today (rather than lots of people telling me what I should be doing, as happened yesterday), I feel ever so slightly more in control which is making me feel just a tad better, hurrah. Not a lot though – just a little bit … I do have a hunch that the whole process will be more edgy this year, but we’ll see.

Had a much needed walk round campus at lunchtime, as well as a brief pop into the gallery which has a sculpture exhibition on at the moment – nice stuff but nothing really grabbed me. And I’m also still having fun with my CooleReader, so that’s a relief. Oh and there’s some lovely charity news about Maloney’s Law – some hugely wonderful person actually put a bid in during the last nine minutes of the auction so the shame of being the Most Unpopular Author in the Charity World has just about passed me by, phew. So, thank you a thousand times and a signed copy will be winging its way to you, Kind Person, just as soon as I can get it in the post.

This afternoon, I took the minutes for the Project Welcome Forum and then I’m hoping for a relatively quiet evening, please God. I’m bumbling away on the edits to Hallsfoot’s Battle, and it’s going okay at the moment. I’m trying to take it slowly and not worry about it too much. Hmm, I wonder when the happy pills kick in …

Today’s nice things:

1. Getting Rupert back
2. Thinking about a new car
3. Thinking about a holiday
4. Lunchtime walks
5. Maloney’s Law finding a last-minute friend, hurrah!
6. Editing
7. Happy pills.

Anne Brooke - taking everything slowly as she's unable to go very fast

Disasters and Miracles

Here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 171

Every seventh year
let the words

speak through you:
from the gut

to the throat,
from the mouth

to the air,
releasing strange light

that glistens the skin
of all who hear.


I took the courtesy car into work today and managed to get a 3 day temporary pass for it as I don’t really know when I’ll be seeing Rupert again, sigh. UPDATE - looks like I'll be able to pick it up first thing tomorrow, so that's a relief anyway. Meanwhile at work, I’m messing around with meeting papers and diary maintenance. Feels like a very muddled Monday today really.

Mind you, the nice news is that the upcoming Bible Stories Anthology, Disasters and Miracles, now has its family-friendly cover art. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in anything remotely family-friendly, so that’s a new thing for me. Best not get too used to it though …

Thank goodness for reflexology at lunchtime – such a treat. It set me up for a meeting straight afterwards about Freshers’ Week. I’m running one of the information point tables again this year so best gird my proverbial loins up pretty darn soon. It all starts now. The worst thing is there’s a new regime this year (groan …) and I have to come in the Sunday before Freshers’ Week as well – for six hours!!! Lordy, but I can see it’s going to be even more of a nightmare week than usual, deep deep sighing … The very thought of it is making me feel quite tearful, even now.

Tonight, I will pop into see Gladys on my way home, and then I’m anticipating an evening of quiet editing and maybe a spot of TV. You never know. Oh and there’s been yet another rejection of my comic fantasy short story, Creative Accountancy for Beginners, double sigh. And there's about one hour left (at the time of typing) of the Maloney's Law Diabetes Charity auction bid and the sum total of my bids is zero. Ye gods, that's not something I'll be doing again in the future, I can tell you that now!! So, not a first-class day then, all in all. The fed-up factor is about 10. Out of 5. Is the weekend soon???

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Cover art for Disasters and Miracles
3. Reflexology
4. Editing
5. TV.

Anne Brooke - hoping the day will be over soon ...

Slow starts and stories

A gloriously slow start to the day today. And Lordy but that doesn't happen often. Didn't actually get up till gone 9am, which is about a three hour lie-in compared to a University day and two to a non-University one, hurrah! Total bliss really. So here's this morning's meditation (which was nearly an afternoon one):

Meditation 170

All those years
and years of travel

and when the destination’s
finally in sight,

just there over the hill,
all you can do

is gaze and gaze
at untouched beauty,

knowing you will never
enter it.


Talking of literary matters, I'm pleased to say that my short story, The Last Morning, is now published at The Foundling Review and two of my earlier meditation poems can be found at Pens On Fire webzine.

It certainly makes up for the two or three rejections (boo! hiss!) I've had this week - I'm storing them up for the moment as I can't raise the energy to resend stuff out while I'm seriously getting into the novel edit for Hallsfoot's Battle. The beginning is actually going fairly smoothly and I'm now as far into it as Chapter Four (which is further than you might think as Ralph's sections of the story don't count as chapters but as part of the Lammas Chronicles, and I've had two of those already). So far my most amusing changes have been to do with Annyeke's house which I appear to have completely redecorated in the two days' gap between the ending of The Gifting and the start of this novel. Hell, no wonder she's tired! I suspect there will be a lot more changes to come, and deeper ones too, however.

Tonight, I must ring Mother and try to sound relatively normal (ho ho) and I must also try to glean some manner of television out of this evening's sparse programming. At least we have last week's video of Mock the Week still to watch, plus a fair amount of DVD Spaced episodes, hurrah.

This week's haiku is:

Each word hooks meaning
into my skin; their temple
rises to the skies.

Today's nice thing:

1. A lie-in
2. Poetry
3. Short story and poetry publications
4. The Hallsfoot edit
5. Videos/DVDs
6. Haiku.

Anne Brooke - relishing slowness

Torchwood failures and toilet brushes

Ah, Torchwood. What a very peculiar mix that week was. Such a rollercoaster ride and with such a deeply unsatisfying conclusion. Who would have thought that the kick-ass brilliant episode one could have led to the mixed-up confusion of episode five? Such a shame. Don't get me wrong though. I thought that, taken as a whole, it was an utterly superb and gritty political fantasy drama, and the brilliant Peter Capaldi gave the performance of a lifetime as flawed civil servant, John Frobisher. I also think the scene where he (SPOILER ALERT - just in case!) goes up the stairs of his family home to kill his wife and children, interspersed with the equally wonderful scene of his secretary talking to Lois in prison about how Frobisher used to be might just be the best thing on TV since Rome.

But, to my mind, for all that it simply wasn't Torchwood. It felt as if the scriptwriters had strayed so far from the ethos of the programme that they could easily have taken it out of the Torchwood world, given it a slight shift of structure and it would have worked equally well. And, if that's the case, then I think that all in all it failed. Interestingly, (ANOTHER SPOILER ALERT!) when Ianto dies, I felt it had strayed so far from its centre by then that I didn't much care either way whether he lived or not. I also do think that the scriptwriters never really understood how to handle a developing gay couple relationship - throughout the five nights, the dialogue between Jack and Ianto was never consistent and blew hot and cold all the time. It was really very unsatisfactory. And yes I do think Ianto had to die - due to Jack's revealed past history and the fact that he'd taken twelve children to their deaths, creatively speaking Jack needed to suffer too, and that was fine. But, if the series wanted to hang on in some measure to what makes (or rather made) Torchwood special, then there would have been no need to kill Jack's grandson, Steven, at the end. All they had to do to give it a really satisfying ending was to discover that Steven had inherited Jack's resurrection abilities, and allow the boy to come back from the dead. That would have been grand - and opened up a whole new plotline about Jack's developing links with his family, while Gwen develops hers. Instead, they seemed to blow any concept of light or positivity out of the water and left themselves with something of a mess. Again, such a shame.

Anyway, here's today's meditation:

Meditation 169

You won’t find it
in the sky
nor on the other side

of the ocean.

What you seek
is already with you;
it’s a pure scent,

richer than all the perfumes
of earth, poured out
like water, over skin.

Remember.


Other amusements of the day are that when cleaning the loo last night, the loo brush fell off in my hand and landed in the toilet-bowl. Goddammit. I had to get Lord H to come and fish it out and mend it - this sort of thing is a man's job, you know ... Oh, most definitely it is. However, bearing in mind that this week I've had a gear stick come off in my hand, and now a loo-brush, I am loathe to go anywhere near Lord H's good self for the duration of the weekend, just in case. These things often travel in threes, you know. And I have absolutely no idea how I might explain it to the hospital, should I need to ... Hmm, perhaps better safe than sorry.

This morning, I have finished writing up my review of Chris Cleave's novel, The Other Hand (surely no coincidence, bearing in mind the above?...), for Vulpes Libris which will be up on site on 4 August. My review won't be pretty either, that much I can say. The novel also has the worst blurb in the history of time - what on earth are publishers on these days??? The mind boggles indeed ...

This afternoon however, things are looking up as Lord H and I are off to Glyndebourne once more to see Falstaff. I must admit to not usually being a fan of anything to do with Falstaff at all - I've always found him an immensely irritating and dull character, but hey it's Verdi and it's an experience. So I am endeavouring to keep an open mind. And the company, the food and the setting will be lovely for sure.

Oh, and the good news is that Lord H has found out how to open my strange PDF files on the CoolerReader. Apparently the Adobe Digital Editions downloads are not actual PDFs at all, but envelopes containing PDFs. When downloaded, they put the envelope in one file and the actual PDF in another. Yes, I know, it's not intuitive at all, is it? And the instructions are sadly minimal. Anyway now I have found them on my computer, I have copied them to the eReader and it's all working fine, hurrah. Hell, I can even bookmark the dang pages and find them again - what joy! Lord H and I are now the experts, sad to say ...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Getting the loo brush mended
3. Not having even to think about Cleave's dreadful novel for a while
4. Glyndebourne
5. Getting to grips with my CooleReader.

Anne Brooke - frightened to touch anything at all today

Vulpes Libris review, golf and a CoolerReader nightmare

I'm pleased to say that my review of John Wray's novel, Lowboy is now up at Vulpes Libris reviews. Something of a mixed bag, to my mind - but I appreciate that even saying that, and making the suggestion I do, is going against every other single reviewer in the known universe. Ah well, I never did follow the crowd ...

And here's this morning's meditation (I think I may have got the numbers muddled in the past, but this is now right. Possibly ...):

Meditation 168

A bitter root, a
barren waste:
salt, sulphur, emptiness.

The pain has always
been written.
Travel secretly

to the desert
and feel the sand
sting your feet

while the light
beckons you on.


And Marian and I managed to have a good golf game - well, compared to last week anyway - so that was something of a surprise. I didn't even go in any bunkers (well, gosh!) though I did manage to hit a tree dead centre which brought the ball right back to where it had been lying only a couple of seconds earlier. Trick shots, eh - how I love 'em.

I've also managed - at last! - to start the actual editing of Hallsfoot's Battle. Having the notes from The Gifting is proving very useful already. I feel it might well change rather more than anticipated by the time I reach the end again. But that's probably a good thing. Talking of books, I am really, seriously struggling with the CoolerReader machine. I did manage to download and read a short story onto it this morning, which was fine. But since then I've bought two more books at different venues which I can't seem to see at all on the reader. Though they appear to exist on the computer and I can even see them in the machine's menu when I plug it in, but I can't get them on the machine itself. I suspect that my reading options might be limited to PDFs, and it doesn't seem to take any notice of Adobe Digital editions (which I thought was a PDF by any other name, but apparently isn't, sigh ...) even though I've downloaded the software and tried to get it to talk to the CoolerReader twice. It's very very frustrating. So it looks like I can't read any of the books on the CoolerBooks site as they all seem to be Adobe Digital and that's no good to man nor beast. They're supposed to offer books in a special CoolerReader format, but for the life of me I have no idea how to find them - it's not very well organised at all. On top of that, I sent a help message to them yesterday, but no-one's replied. I am rapidly becoming extremely disenchanted with the whole thing, really. It surely can't be that hard for them to make it easier for the customer!! But obviously not, deep deep sigh ...

Thank goodness for this afternoon's Alexander Technique lesson - just what I needed to straighten out and just chill a little. And I definitely needed that after discovering that the garage have at last got the aircon unit delivered today - but sadly it's not the right one. So nothing will happen now until at least Monday. Head - meets desk - stays there. Mind you, while the garage was on, I remembered to ask them how to open the courtesy car windows and there's a button under the radio at the front which does it. Not very intuitive then ... Lordy, but really it's astonishing I'm not climbing the walls and chewing at the curtains already. Maybe I would be but I'm just too damn tired, to be honest. Haven't been sleeping well and have been waking too early in a state of extreme tension (Lord knows why) every day for a week - am desperately hoping for a lie-in tomorrow. Now that would be nice.

Today's nice things:

1. The Vulpes Libris review
2. Poetry
3. Golf
4. Starting the Hallsfoot edits
5. Alexander Technique
6. Finding the car's window buttons.

Anne Brooke - wondering if there might still be time for a nap, oh please God yes ...

A 5+ star review for The Bones of Summer!

Well, gosh and double gosh. The lovely Jen at Well Read Books has given me a 5+ star review for The Bones of Summer at Jessewave Reviews, which you can click on there and which I also produce below:

“This is my first full marks review and to be honest I'm a little nervous as to whether what I'm going to write now will actually do this book justice. It was that good. So good, in fact, that I may run out of superlatives. So good, that my mind disappeared into 'book world' and I spent every single spare moment reading. So good, that even when I had to do pesky real life things like cooking I was still thinking about the book, wondering what was going to happen next or mulling over the characters, their merits and their flaws. At the beginning of The Bones of Summer everything is going well for Craig. He's happy with where he lives and is good friends with the two women he shares a house with. He likes his modelling job, even if he's not been able to get on as an actor. Best of all, is that he gets a phone call from a guy he met a couple of months ago, Paul, who wants to get together and maybe start something. Things are on the up for Craig and he's happy to go with it and forget all about the terrible things that happened to him when he ran away from his Devon home seven years before. Unfortunately for Craig, life has a way of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it. Just after his first date (and night) with Paul, he receives a letter from an old neighbour and friend in Devon telling him that his father is missing. This starts off a chain of events which forces Craig to return to Devon and his past and confront all that he was attempting to forget. Paul is a Private Detective and offers to help Craig investigate his past. This then impacts on their tentative relationship. There are two main themes running through this book. The first, and most obvious theme is that of facing up to your past. Craig ran away from his abusive Father at the age of seventeen and has spent the intervening years trying to avoid thinking of his childhood and the events which led to him leaving. The past, as they say, has a way of catching up with you and I found it admirable in Craig that he faces up to that once he realises that he can't stay in hiding forever. His reaction to going back to Devon was a mixture of heartbreaking and confusing for the reader. Craig himself has large gaps in his memory and often reacts to his surroundings in a very emotional way that even he can't understand, let alone explain to Paul. It takes time and a painful stripping away of the layers before Craig is even able to discover what happened. The reader is taken along with that emotional rollercoaster and I found that I had to be very patient and wait, like Craig does, before I got answers to the many questions that I had as I was reading. Paul too has a past. He has suffered tragedy and betrayal in his life which you would think would make him the ideal person to help Craig through this difficult time. However, things are never that simple which leads to the second theme: That of secrets and lies. Both men have secrets from each other. In one sense this is understandable; they have just met each other and are starting a tentative journey on the road to love. Neither one of them want to share their past with each other yet. Craig doesn't want to scare Paul off and Paul has his own reasons to which we are not privy. It did annoy me that Paul often accuses Craig of lying to him, when, rather hypocritically, he never comes wholly clean about his own past. In fact, I found myself getting cross with Paul quite a lot throughout the book. On one hand he offers to help Craig and even spends a lot of time supporting him through this terrible time; but on the other hand he uses quite brutal methods to force Craig to open up and speak about his past. Methods such as the use of emotional blackmail by withdrawing his approval or acting coldly towards him or blowing hot and cold so that Craig is confused as to where he stands in their relationship. I wasn't sure I liked Paul, but that didn't mean he wasn't a terrific character. He was - as is any character who draws such a response from me. If you are thinking that this sounds like a very angst filled book, then you will be right. Emotions run high throughout the novel. Both men are strong characters who are dealing in their own way with distressing things that have happened to them. Sometimes they break down in tears; sometimes they clash horribly and say dreadful things to each other; sometimes they make love fiercely in order to forget; sometimes they close up and suffer in silence. These were complex men and I was never really sure how they would react at any time. It was this unpredictability that had me on the edge of my seat throughout the book. What a thrilling ride! Having said that, the book wasn't all doom and gloom and what saved it from being too heavy going was the internal voice of Craig. He had a typical British self-depreciating sense of humour and a ready wit, which brought out humour in the direst of circumstances. An example of this was his self-created list of 'rules for gay men'. But he’d better not forget Gay Rule Number One: At least find out a name and a job before you do the business. Craig also has a great optimism about him. He always tries to focus on the good, even if he does worry about the bad things which are happening to him. This idealistic cheerfulness was appealing and coupled with Craig's sarcastic humour often gets him into trouble, but did help to lighten the feel of the book. I've only touched the surface of what was so great about this book. It wasn't just the realistic characterisation that made this book a fantastic read. The settings were so ordinary, so domestic, such as kitchens, bedrooms, an office, a club, and yet terrible things happened in those settings so that their mere ordinariness added to the chill down the spine. The plotting was tight, with each clue, each answer, being revealed slowly until a breathtaking, frantic, thrilling conclusion. Have I waxed lyrical enough about this book? I don't think I can. All I can do is recommend that you read The Bones of Summer. Actually, this goes beyond recommendation to a plea - if you like mystery; if you like character driven books; if you like reading compulsively, unable to part with the story for even a short time; then you must read this book.”

Double gosh and enormous thank yous from me, Jen - I'm so glad you enjoyed it so much! Actually, astonishingly glad, bearing in mind the traumas of the day and the fact that I struggle so hard to get a book published at all! It's so lovely when readers like it. Thank you.

Keeping to literary matters, here's today's meditation:

Meditation 168

A litany of disasters
opens out:
famine, disease, war,

pain, exile, oppression,
murder, cannibalism, death.
But on this day

of quietness and warmth
the voice of the past

seems far away.

This morning, I caught up with yesterday's episode of Torchwood - the shock! the awful revelation! What on earth did Jack think he was doing??!? Words fail me. I can't wait for tonight ... I've also picked up a free courtesy car from the garage as poor Rupert is going to be sick until at least the weekend. The trauma of driving a courtesy car was bad enough (Lord but I hate change), but when I attempted to get it into reverse in order to park it at home, the damn gear stick came off in my hand and the cars queueing up to wait for me to sort myself out had to wait a while longer as I struggled to get the damn thing back in. Really, it doesn't bode well ... Not only that, but I can't work out how to open the windows so when getting and giving back my car park ticket in Guildford this afternoon, I had to leap out of the car, sort out the barrier machine and then leap back into the car and drive through at a rate of knots before the pole came down again. I also had trouble getting into 2nd gear as the pesky thing tends to go straight from 1st to 4th, which makes roundabouts interesting, to say the least. And Guildford has some damn complex roundabouts. Really, it's astonishing I'm alive at all ...

Thank goodness for a girly lunch and a free glass of wine (thank the Lord for food vouchers) with Robin this afternoon. Lovely to see her, and the support while I burbled on for ten minutes from the off about cars and stress and gear sticks is hugely appreciated. Thank you, Robin. After lunch, we wandered around Guildford and I have bought a very nice green summer cardigan with my Viyella voucher - it must be a voucher day indeed.

Back home, I have finally finished typing up my notes for The Gifting and now need to go through them and highlight the things I specially need to bear in mind for the proper Hallsfoot's Battle edit. And, in the meantime and sadly, I am now one of only two authors who have no bids, for Maloney's Law at the Diabetes Charity auction. Ah, the shame is mounting, you know and only four days left, woe is me.

Lastly, you'll be pleased to know that after nearly 24 hours (24 hours!!!), my Cool-er Reader has finally charged itself up and I must now work out how to load ebooks onto it and how to read them. The mystery thickens, Carruthers ...

Today's nice things:

1. A lovely 5+ review for The Bones of Summer, hurrah!
2. Poetry
3. Torchwood
4. Lunch & shopping with Robin
5. Finishing the pre-edits
6. A charged-up Cool-er Reader - at last!

Anne Brooke - having a veritable rollercoaster day

Torchwood Day Three, Diabetes Day Five and a Cool-er Reader

Another good episode of Torchwood yesterday, though not quite as hot and on-the-edge as the first episode, I think. It’s also strange how Jack and Ianto seem to blow hot and cold, and there’s very little consistency in it. In Episode One they appeared to be a normal couple (well, relatively normal, bearing in mind Jack isn’t entirely human …), yet in Episode Two when Jack dies several times and is then rescued by Gwen & Ianto from his cement prison by the means of dropping the whole lot into a quarry so he dies and lives again, neither man appears to be that pleased to see each other. Bizarre really. Perhaps they have evil twins who occasionally take over and that’s another Torchwood secret yet to be revealed? And, while I’m on the subject, Lord H is rather puzzled as to where the Government managed to get hold of such quick drying cement and why can’t they let any of the rest of us have it … The plot thickens indeed, Carruthers, much like the cement.

Still, I’m looking forward to Episode Three which I plan to watch on the i-player tomorrow as I’m out with Jane H for pizza and chat in Godalming tonight, hurrah! (Hello, Jane).

In the meantime, the Diabetes charity auction continues and Maloney’s Law is still up for grabs. It’s a wonderful chance to support a very worthwhile cause and there are only five days left to do so … Says she, sounding only ever so slightly desperate that she’s one of the two authors who’ve received no bids yet. My reputation goes before me, I fear.

At work, we’ve had a briefing meeting for the upcoming open day next week – though I won’t actually be involved in that one, it’s always worth knowing what the plans are, especially as I’ll be organising our office team for a couple of them coming up later in the year. The excitement of the day though was when one of the Students’ Union staff came in and wanted to stamp a letter with a “Received on …” date stamp. However, without the Dean of Students’ office here today, nobody knew how to change the date stamp, and it took four of us and a lot of wasted ink to work our way to that conclusion. In the end, we just used a pen. Ah the old ways are sometimes the best, you know. New-fangled date stamps – bah, we say, bah!

And, horrifyingly, it’s that time of year for our annual review – yikes! I don’t think I’m even halfway towards completing last year’s goals yet. Best get a move on then … Oh and this week’s heroes are the Monty Python team, Ram from Student Advice, Lauren from Mentoring, and Brother Lawrence. Just because they are, really.

Still no news on the car front though – I was hoping to get it back today, but it’s all gone very quiet. Perhaps poor Rupert is beyond all hope now? Sob. Mind you, I might finally get round to looking at a new (well, second-hand new …) car at the weekend, so maybe this is a push in the right direction? Trouble is, all the cars we’ve looked at appear to be silver or black, and I was hoping for a colour this time round. Has the car industry run out of spray paint? UPDATE – sadly the car is worse off than we feared and the aircon, clutch and fanbelt are all very very unhappy. The garage man’s going to ring me again tomorrow with an ultimate price update – deep deep sigh, combined with sobbing …

I’ve now finished reading Chris Cleave’s novel, The Other Hand, which I hope to review for Vulpes Libris later. Hmm and hmm is all I can say, and editors aren’t really what they used to be … Mind you, the great news is that my new Cool-er Reader (in the picture, mine's the violet one) has arrived and I'm now charging it up ready to upload my first eBooks for reading away from my computer, hurrah. I can't wait.

Today’s nice things:

1. Torchwood
2. Charity auction
3. Date stamp fun
4. The week’s heroes
5. Thinking about a new car, maybe
6. The Cool-er Reader
7. Dinner with Jane.

Anne Brooke - bringing her reading into the 21st century at last

Torchwood Day Two, charity books and sad cars

I’m pleased to say that a signed copy of Maloney’s Law is part of an eBay charity auction to support the American Diabetes Association. This is a cause that’s very important to me, no matter what country it’s in, as a large part of my family suffer from diabetes, and both my father and grandmother died from it. So if you do feel able to bid for the book at all, that would be hugely appreciated, and the link is here. Other books in the auction can be found at Meerzoor2’s entry. And it lasts until 13 July. Many thanks indeed.

Meanwhile, the car’s not too happy. Apparently, it’s not the air con but a variety of problems with the fanbelt and adjuster thingy (no, it’s a mystery to me too …), and the garage won’t have it ready until tomorrow, so it looks like I’m going to have to rely on Lord H’s kindness and more reliable car until that point. Here’s hoping it’s not too expensive a repair though …

Oh and I must say I thought yesterday’s episode of Torchwood was fantastic. Edge-of-the-seat stuff and lots of hugely interesting plot lines. With a totally terrific cliffhanger ending. I loved it. Can’t wait for tonight’s second helping. Bring it on.

At work, I fear I might have to help out with a last-minute presentation to new international foundation students, as there’s nobody else around. Groan … How I hate being involved with presentations – it’s a nightmare. I am terrified beyond all terror of public speaking. I might just hold up our PowerPoint slides, point at the relevant phrase and hope for the best. Anything rather than having to speak. I’ll only be really happy when it’s over. UPDATE: Actually the students were really sweet and there weren’t that many of them which suited me and Ram from Student Advice, no problem. It ended up being very informal and I think we did okay – thanks, Ram! But phew, thank goodness it’s over – I’ll never be a natural.

Was thinking about walking into town at lunchtime to look at clothes, but I feel the urge might have passed. It never stays long. So I had a walk around the campus instead and got utterly drenched by the rain. So much so that I am now attempting to dry my socks out on one of the portable heaters so they’ll be dry enough to go home in. Should have brought my wellies really. I also popped into to the campus art gallery, but can’t say the latest exhibition of etchings did much for me – though I did appreciate how dark, sinister and shadowy they were. Maybe it was because it was focused on scenes from Paris, and I’m afraid I don’t much like Paris. Ah well.

Tonight, I’m taking part in a Pride Month Dreamspinner authors event at Beth Wylde’s Yahoo Group, so I’m looking forward to chatting about The Bones of Summer and various GLBT fiction matters. Thanks so much for inviting us, Beth!

And later of course there’s Torchwood Day Two – can’t forget that!

Today’s nice things:

1. Helping support a diabetes charity
2. Torchwood
3. Surviving a presentation (phew!)
4. Pride Month Dreamspinner book event.

Anne Brooke - doing her bit for diabetes support

Torchwood Day One and a spot of car trouble

How delightful – a whole week of Torchwood to look forward to. I really can’t wait for tonight’s episode. First off though, here’s this morning’s meditation:

Meditation 166

The prizes for goodness:
crops, cattle

and children.
Frankly, that doesn’t do it

for me, as surely
there’s less responsibility

with chocolate, diamonds
and roses

but perhaps that after all
is the point.

Some good literary news today is that my Biblical short story, The Rock, has been accepted for publication by Einstein’s Pocket Watch webzine. It was published briefly earlier this year at Perpetual Magazine but unfortunately the owner had to close the site due to family illness, which was a shame. But it’s nice that the story will get another airing later in the year.

Other good news and still Bible-based (well, gosh, how holy I’m becoming …) is that we now have a publication date and a title for the upcoming Bible Stories Anthology produced by Bridge House Publishing (which will include my story, The Voyage). This will be out on 13 August and the title will be Disasters and Miracles. Sounds great to me – and I’m very much looking forward to it.

At work, I’m attempting to cope with yet more changes to the parental guidelines document – it feels very much like fighting my way through the undergrowth without the chance of a light at the moment, but presumably it will all be done at some point. One can only hope so.

With all this, I definitely needed my lunchtime reflexology session – which was bliss as ever. If you ever get the chance for a reflexology moment, I can highly recommend it. It set me up for the trauma of doing the Tesco shop after work (groan), though thankfully there didn’t appear to be as much on my list as I’d feared, hurrah.

However, the day’s big highlight must surely be the start of the Torchwood week on TV tonight. A whole week of Jack & Ianto & the gang – what could be nicer? Mustn’t forget the last episode of Krod and his Flaming Sword though (which happens tonight instead of later in the week for some strange reason) – I do have a soft spot for old Krod. In fact Lord H thinks it would be highly effective if Captain Jack simply turned up in Krod’s world and sorted them all out, with Ianto’s admin help. Now that would be an episode to watch …

UPDATE: slight car trouble on the way home, I fear - something rotten in the state of Denmark, so I'm now at home waiting for the RAC man to discover why there's a great smell of burning from the engine. Gosh, he's arrived! So early, hurrah, so I'll still be able to watch Torchwood, phew. It transpires that my air con has broken down so much that it's upsetting the engine workings (it's been broken for a while really, to be honest) and we've dropped it down at the local garage with a note from the RAC man telling the garage man what's wrong and asking him to fix it. Poor Rupert (the car) - hope the other cars are nice to him tonight now he's in a strange place ... All very quick and relatively pain-free - apart from the fact that the RAC man and I were having such a nice chat as he drove me back home that he forgot to take the turning to my road and we started driving to Guildford. I've been kidnapped! How very exciting! However, all's well that ends well - we found a turning and Lord H now has his wife back, unscathed, hurrah. We wait in trepidation to see how the poor car is though ...

Today’s nice things:

1. Torchwood Day One
2. Poetry
3. Short story acceptance
4. A date & title for the Bible stories anthology
5. Reflexology
6. Krod
7. Nice RAC men.

Anne Brooke - wondering where her wheels went ...

A sociable day and the mystery of banns

A day of people and prayer today - ideal for a Sunday really. The meditation I came up with is this:

Meditation 165

She takes her grief
to the road,

feeling it tremble
and shift

upon her shoulders.
Perhaps the wind

will pull it away,
or the brambles

snatch it, piercing
its heavy darkness

with tiny spikes
of thorn.


We had a jolly good hymn-sing at church today - all the good old faithfuls with the good old tunes. Really there's nothing like it. However, it was something of a rocky ride through the day's bann calling - I don't know why but banns are a constant source of surprise to every church I've ever been in - we may indeed look like swans to the visiting couples and their families but there's an awful lot of frantic dabbling going on underneath to try to get them right. Most times, nobody knows the difference but today, it was so surprising to us all that the poor vicar had no option but to be honest (always a revelation in church circles, don't you know ...) - her eyes widened significantly when the couple plus parents ran in late and filled up the front pew whilst smiling and looking hopeful, so she welcomed the visitors and then asked if by chance they might be expecting banns to be called. Yes, they were rather, came the response, so poor Jenny (vicar) left us singing a hymn while she dashed out to the vestry to get the banns book. On the last verse, she dashed back, looking rather bemused and then asked the church warden to have a look while she got on with the service. Elizabeth (church warden) was out for rather a long time, then Jenny went out again while we were belting out the second hymn. At which point it transpired that the banns book had gone missing (actually they often do - they turn up every so often from whatever universe they actually dwell in and then there's an awful lot of writing up records to make sure it looks okay should the diocese come round). Not to be defeated, we simply resorted to getting the engaged couple to write down their names on a piece of paper, and Jenny then called them towards the middle of the service. To be honest, as long as you actually say the words in front of a congregation, everything else can be done on a wing and a prayer (and often is), and everyone's happy.

Mind you, I had a brief chat with the couple afterwards and reassured them that the First Rule of Church Weddings is: A rocky ride through the banns means a perfect wedding day. And I should know - my own ride through the banns was a rollercoaster of disasters, involving (a) travelling 300 miles to hear them and then the vicar decided he wasn't going to do them until the following week; and (b) the vicar almost forgetting to call them out for the second time of asking and having to be reminded by my mother getting out of her pew, striding up to the front and tapping him on the shoulder while he was deep in prayer (he was a very religious sort of a chap, for a vicar anyway) and threatening to remove the pulpit cloth (which she donated) unless he did it there and then. That worked. Ah, happy days, eh. Anyway, the couple today seemed relieved to know it isn't just them and are already looking forward to seeing how we handle it all next week ...

This afternoon, Lord H and I have been helping to celebrate Marian's husband reaching the respectable age of 70 (gosh!), which involved a lovely garden party at theirs and lots of chat and good food. Wonderful. The weather was perfect for it too, in spite of this morning's rain.

Tonight I'm continuing writing up the notes on The Gifting and wondering why the hell there isn't anything decent to watch on TV. I mean it's Sunday night -we deserve it. Where are Midsomer Murders when we need them?? Sigh.

And this week's haiku (in honour of the weather) is:

All week long, the heat
melts our skin, making us taste
time's quiet journey.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Church
3. A 70th birthday party
4. Writing up The Gifting notes
5. Haikus.

Anne Brooke - muddling through the day

The art of waiting

A glorious day out in London today but I still managed to squeeze in a meditation moment or two:

Meditation 164

Your life is measured
in stone.

It stands in the river
and on the mountain,

a silent white marker
for all you have done,

thought, said.
Let your hand

brush its cold surface,
remember how

you have arrived.


So. To the big city. This morning we wandered round the National Portrait Gallery which is as fabulous as ever. We admired the BP Portrait Award paintings, which are especially exciting this year as local man Peter Monkman (who teaches art at Charterhouse, the school next door) won first prize with a marvellous painting of his daughter, called Changeling 2. Very well done to Peter!

We also enjoyed the new Gay Icons exhibition, which is really interesting and I can definitely recommend that also. I only wish they'd had a paperback version of the catalogue, but they only had a hardback, dammit, at £20 which I thought was a tad too much. Appropriately enough though, there also appeared to be a Gay Pride event on in Trafalgar Square involving a concert and lots of stalls, which looked a lot of fun - though the Japanese tourists did seem rather confused by the plethora of pink on the streets.

After a quick lunch at the NPG cafe, we then wandered round the National Gallery for a while. Honestly you always see something different when you go, and this time I fell in love with the paintings of a man and a woman by Robert Campin - it's not great quality onscreen, but the luminosity and the delicacy of the work was stunning. However, all this aside, it's true to say that art does take its toll on the feet - all that standing around, my dears ...

And during the afternoon came the out-and-out highlight of our day - a wonderful performance of Waiting for Godot with the glorious Patrick Stewart and the stalwart Ian McKellen. Bliss. It was very well done indeed and totally off-the wall. As the play is of course. I particularly enjoyed Ronald Pickup's bravura handling of Lucky's long, intellectual and highly complex soliloquy. He got a hearty round of applause for that - as he deserved. It's a very difficult piece. And Patrick Stewart is so damned hot too - mmm ... Such a treat.

Anyway today's curious London fact is this: on the underground, they kept reminding us that the weather is very hot and we must therefore remember to drink lots of water. What??!? When did the underground nominate itself as being in charge of the traveller's health?? Aren't we adults here?? They should damn well stop being so condescending and simply concentrate on getting us from A to B. As Lord H said, next they'll be telling us we can't go home until we've had our five portions of fruit and veg, or telling us we shouldn't be using the underground at all as the walk will do us good. Deep deep sigh ...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Portraits - especially winning ones from local men!
3. Gay Icons
4. Paintings in general
5. Plays, especially when they involve Patrick Stewart.

Anne Brooke - replete with art and happy to wait ...

Brokeback article and editing notes

Here's today's meditation for you - and I'm now onto the story about Lazarus, as you can probably tell:

Meditation 163

The slow disappearing
into the dark cave,

solidity weighting the skin,
impression of night

velvet-rich on the tongue.
It is hard

when the eyes
no longer open:

when will he come
when will he come

when will he
come.


How very jolly I am, eh. Anyway I've had a fun time this morning typing up my article about Brokeback Mountain for Vulpes Libris - goodness me, what a lot I had to say indeed. It feels great now I've got it all onto the page. Or rather screen. Adaptation Week will be the week of 20 July and will include lots of hugely exciting pieces too, so don't forget to look out for that.

I've popped into Godalming to get my essential weekly fix of the local news, and I'm also thrilled to see that a short article about my books is included in this month's Writers' News magazine. Well, gosh. On the other hand, I am hugely annoyed by some ridiculous article in the accompanying Writing Magazine about how self-publishing isn't "real" publishing and we shouldn't do it. Ye gods, how old fashioned can you get?? Really, authors who've been lucky enough to land deals every time they so much as venture into the outside world or who simply don't know the first thing about how the real writing world is should learn to keep their mouths firmly closed and give the rest of us a chance to do whatever we damn well wish to. It's very condescending to think that self-publishing is a lesser relative in the publishing world - these days, sensible writers (such as myself - ho ho) take advantage of it whenever we need to. Harrumph, I say. Speech over.

This afternoon I've finished taking notes about The Gifting and now all I have to do is type them up. Hey ho. That's just over 20 sides of scrawl so it could take some time. Only after that can I really get onto the actual editing of Hallsfoot's Battle. I hope Annyeke and the gang aren't fretting too much at my curious absence ... I'll be back - as they say.

I've also had a much-needed Alexander Technique lesson but was ten minutes late as the traffic in and around Guildford is at the moment a Living Hell. Apparently some lorry has overturned and the whole of the south-east has ground to a halt. I felt much more chilled after the lesson though, thank goodness. I needed it for the long journey home ...

Oh, and I've just received a rejection (groan) from the second publisher I sent my long poem too. I still like it, but I don't think I have the heart to send it out anywhere else. Too much effort. I don't think I'll be writing another one of that length either. But, talking of poetry, I'm making plans to self-publish my first forty meditations and am thinking of using I-universe this time round, as Lulu seems very ponderous sometimes, not least when you approach them as someone attempting to buy one of their books. Or maybe I'm just unlucky when I try to buy?? So if anyone has any pressing warnings about I-universe that I need to take into account, I'd be hugely grateful for the benefit of your wisdom. Thank you!

Tonight, I must catch the last of the Torchwood radio plays on the i-player. So far they've been great fun. And later, Eight out Ten Cats is on TV, so that should give me my essential Friday night comedy quota. Ooh, and there's pizza and ice cream for dinner too. What bliss.

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Brokeback article
3. An article about me in Writers' News
4. Finishing the notes for The Gifting
5. Alexander Technique lesson
6. Thinking about my next poetry collection
7. Torchwood
8. TV
9. Food.

Anne Brooke
Anne Brooke - puzzling over poetry

Brokeback, massages and God

Now there's a title that you don't really want coming up on your A Level Philosophy paper with the command to "Discuss". Scary biscuits indeed. Anyway, getting God out of the way first (sort of), here's today's meditation:

Meditation 162

Remember the past
with baskets of wheat,
corn, barley, garlic,

figs, grapes,
pomegranates.
Let them rest

on the altar
where God remembers also
and walk away

into bright air
and sunlight.


Other literary news is that Is This Reality webzine have accepted my short story, The Way Back, for future publication, so that's nice - thank you, Jade! And I've spent the morning watching the film of Brokeback Mountain and taking notes for my upcoming Vulpes Libris article. It's such a fantastic film. It makes different and very interesting choices from the book of course - which I intend to talk about in my piece in some measure - but that's as it should be as the mediums of literature and film are very different. At one point at the end, I was blubbing so hard I had to take my glasses off. Which doesn't really do my kick-ass Paxman-style image much good, I grant you. And I know what happens too. Really, it's hard to take notes when you can't see the page for the tears, sigh.

This afternoon, I have had a wonderful massage and facial from Alice, the new Clarins girl. At one point, I was so relaxed I think I drifted off to sleep. Bliss. And the big excitement is that Clarins have finally produced a foot cream which goes on the shelves next week and I have a sample of it, ha! How I long for the day when they finally give us Clarins groupies some soap too. Liquid and hard copy (as it were) would be nice.

Tonight, I'm at the Bible Study at the Rectory and continuing our tour of the Book of James. Well, at least I assume that's what we're doing as I've missed a few weeks what with holidays and stuff, so anything could be going on really. I shall take the prettiest of the Bibles in the flat (ah, my dears, we have loads, in all sorts of versions, shapes and sizes, I fear ...) along with me and attempt to look confident. That way, nobody will realise I know nothing. Hell, it's a plan.

I also mustn't forget to listen to today's radio episode of Torchwood, plus Krod Mandoon and that pesky flaming sword of his also beckons. I'm beginning to have a soft spot for that man. Do you think I need help?...

Today's nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Short story acceptance
3. Watching Brokeback Mountain
4. Clarins massage & facial
5. Bible thoughts
6. Torchwood
7. TV.

Anne Brooke - totally chilled out, apart from the weather ...

Bones on Amazon, a first review and Torchwood delights

Great news! The Bones of Summer paperback is now available on Amazon UK and I’ve even got my first review from Unique Logophilos, which you can read here. It’s a positive and also very interesting one, and the issues raised are certainly making me think. Thanks, Ann!

I’m also pleased to hear that seven of my meditation poems have been accepted for publication by Ashé Journal, so I’ll look forward to that for sure. Thanks, Sven!

And here’s today’s meditation poem:

Meditation 161

The wolf lurks
in the shadows,

waiting for the smallest hint
of inattention.

His eyes glow yellow
against the dark

and his black coat
would be sleek and warm

on your skin
if he touched you.

I’ve spent some time today marketing Bones now it’s out in the UK – the University have put the information on our intranet too which is lovely, and I’ve emailed a few people with the news. I do hope that anyone who buys it enjoys the read as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

Meanwhile, at work, we’re still sweltering in the heat and I’m still pondering the mysteries of Steering Group reviews. I’ve now – with Ruth’s and Andrea’s help (can’t think of these things on my own, you know …) – drafted a couple of pages of questions which includes a table for comments. Tables for comments always look impressive, I think. Well, I hope so anyway.

Managed to slob by the lake again at lunchtime as any concept of walking anywhere is totally beyond me. I’ve just finished reading Annie Proulx’ Brokeback Mountain in preparation for writing a piece comparing it with the film for the upcoming Adaptation Week at Vulpes Libris. Honestly, it’s such a raw, strong and lyrical short story – I’ve read it so many times already and yet it still makes me feel utterly and totally shattered. In a good way. Lots of food for thought there then. My next task, and another pleasurable one: watching the Brokeback Mountain DVD again. Ah, it’s a tough job, eh, but somebody’s got to do it …

I’ve been creating a poster for our upcoming University event with Charles Christian, so I’ve sent that off to the English Department for their input. The actual date isn’t till October but I like to get ahead – particularly as September will be so horrendously busy here at the educational frontline that we might not even have time to breathe ...

I also mustn’t forget that the first of this week’s three Torchwood radio plays is on this afternoon, so I’m planning to catch up with it on i-player tonight. Am also hoping to do a few more notes on The Gifting in the ongoing pre-edit, though I have to admit it’s going very slowly at the moment. It’s just too hot to be quick at anything. And I'm aiming to see Ugly Betty later on too, hurrah!

Today’s nice things:

1. The Bones of Summer at Amazon UK
2. Review for Bones
3. Poetry acceptance
4. Poetry writing
5. Marketing
6. Thinking about Brokeback Mountain
7. Making posters
8. Torchwood
9. Pre-editing
10. TV.

Anne Brooke - living and breathing books at the moment ...

Feeling the heat, a Bones review and a symphonic novel

It’s going to be a scorcher today, I fear. Here’s this morning’s meditation before we reach for our Pimm’s and ice:

Meditation 160

In early sunlight
the slats of the gate
glitter, pulsate
with shining cobwebs,
the day’s harbingers.

Beyond, the field
and distant mountains
shimmer with a promise
you can’t yet taste:
tantalising, dangerous.


Keeping to books, I am utterly thrilled with my first (five-star) review of The Bones of Summer which can be found at Amazon US (scroll down to the review section to read). Thanks so much to Amos Lassen for such kind words - I particularly liked "Brooke is a terrific writer and if you have not read her, you are really missing something." I think I might even put that in my Christmas cards if you're very unlucky!...

At work, I am considering the year’s Steering Group meetings and seeing how we can improve them. Yes, well, rather too much of a managerial task for me (I really only wanted to do the typing, you know …) but I’ll have to try to think of something. A blank page response doesn’t look good. At the same time, the office is drumming up more enthusiasm for our plans for Freshers’ Week – all very worthwhile and necessary of course, but as the whole concept is as usual filling me with dread and existential terror, my smile is, I admit, a little on the fixed side …

I decided against my lunchtime walk round campus today as it’s way too hot, but I did sit by the lake for a while and read. While I was there, in the heat and anger of the day, I finished Rose Tremain’s The Road Home – which I’ve been reading for the University Book Group meeting in July. What a novel. It’s the literary equivalent of listening to a great symphony. Possibly Beethoven but I’m not a musical expert. The characters are rich and vibrant with colour, and some of the turns of phrase are gripping. What puzzled me is that the review quote on the front of the book calls it “wild and beautiful.” Actually it’s anything but wild. It’s the most measured piece of writing I’ve read for a long time. “Measured and beautiful” would be far more accurate. That said, the symphony isn’t perfect. Some of the protagonist’s (Lev) actions are, I think, out of character. I don’t think he’s a man who succumbs to bouts of rage, but he does so in the novel a couple of times. This doesn’t work. I was also worried about two characters, our main man Lev and his short-term girlfriend Sophie, who seemed happy to take money from people in an old people’s home now and again without so much as sparing a thought for the morality of such actions. And I speak as one who used to work in an old people’s home, if on a voluntary basis. They’re always offering money – it’s part of dementia or the general vulnerability of old age. You either laugh it off or take any cheques to the home manager who can dispose of them as he/she thinks fit. So I did find that part of the book rather shocking and it felt as if Tremain hadn’t done her research properly here. Although of course I can’t judge a novelist for that – I’m Mrs Research Light after all. On a more serious note, however, I also think the novel is a good fifty pages or so too long. Maybe more. Reading the end of The Road Home felt like listening to a piece of music where the composer didn’t quite know how to end it and then it eventually fizzled out somewhat. Also the ending doesn’t work – it’s too neat and too happy, on a surface level. I think the power of the book required more angst at the end. That would have been better. However it’s nice that Sophie comes from Godalming – I of course did appreciate that! So, negative points aside, this is a novel well worth reading, if you haven’t already.

Meanwhile, I’ve written a poem about clocks. As you do. And I've got the second part of my advance cheque from Dreamspinner Press, so that's put a spring in my step, thank you, Elizabeth!

Oh and I forgot to say yesterday that I tried to convince the boss that I may have a prickly exterior but that inside I am as soft and malleable as marshmallows melted in the sun. Or words to that effect. His response was actually he thought it was really the other way round, and I was pricklier on the inside than out. Well, harrumph, we say. That’s him off my Christmas card list then …!

Tonight, I’ll continue with my read through of The Gifting whilst sticking as closely as possible to our one and one fan. There’s still more ironing to do too, but I don’t really know if I can face it. The good thing though is that Lord H brought home loads of salad things, plus choc ices, from the shops yesterday which should keep us going for another few days, so we don’t have to turn the oven on at all, hurrah!

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. Reading
3. Being lazy
4. Books
5. Royalty cheques
6. The continuing pre-edit
7. Not having to turn the oven on.

Anne Brooke - wondering if she's reached the day's prickle quota yet

Meetings, editing and novel ideas

Here’s today’s meditation:

Meditation 159

The removal of sandals
signifies something:

a setting aside,
an end

to whatever came before.
The air ceases

its slow rhythmic pulse,
streams still their flow

and somewhere in the desert
a wild bird cries.


Keeping on literary matters, I’m thrilled to see that the paperback version of The Bones of Summer is now available at Amazon US. No picture though, which somehow lessens the excitement, but it’s nice to see it slowly getting out there.

Meanwhile, at work, I’m tidying up last week’s emails which, thankfully, are getting fewer, now the vacation is in full swing. I also had one of those more … um … challenging meetings to minute at work over the lunch hour. Much to my relief however, it was all fairly straightforward and over in half the time. Wonderful. Now that’s the kind of meeting I really go for …

This week’s heroes are Chaplaincy Ruth’s dog for not killing a rabbit but letting it go; Sarah Connolly, who took the part of Giulio Cesare in yesterday’s opera (as indeed she did in the original) and who is an utter utter marvel; Ruth’s campervan, Minty; and the much-missed Farrah, poor lass.

After work, I popped in to see Gladys and renewed her bird-table provisions. Really, I’m not even sure she sees it any more, but it feels like the only thing I can do as she seems to hate talking to me so much these days. Correction – she even hates looking at me, sigh.

Tonight, I’m planning to carry on with the read-through and note-taking of The Gifting, and then I think there’s a repeat of Have I Got New for You? later so I can do some ironing while I’m watching that. My, what an exciting life I lead.

Mind you, I have had an idea for the next (non-Gathandria) GLBT novel which I feel might well have legs. As it were, and possibly. So I’ll wait and see how that pans out. But, hey, an idea – ye gods!

Today’s nice things:

1. Poetry
2. The Amazon US paperback edition of Bones
3. Heroes’ list
4. Making notes on The Gifting
5. TV
6. A possible novel idea.

Anne Brooke - pondering novel ideas